


Flight from 49B - Delayed

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: SpaMano Oneshots [8]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Human, M/M, delayed flights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guy nodded. "Are you from Italy?"</p><p>"What gave it away, the accent?"</p><p>"I'm from Spain. My friend, who I'm visiting, comes from Germany, even though he's only over on a visa. So I'm basically here to tell him, 'It's been three years, and your visa's been expired for two of them, come back to Europe!'" The guy laughed.</p><p>Despite himself, Lovino let out a quick noise that could maybe, under the right circumstances, be understood as a laugh. The guy grinned, like hearing Lovino laugh had made his whole day better.</p><p>"I'm Antonio," the guy introduced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight from 49B - Delayed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cocoamebuns](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cocoamebuns).
  * Inspired by [Stuck at the Airport](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/154616) by cocoamebuns. 



 Lovino woke up to a panel of lights, flight-attendant buttons, and air vents. He blinked up at them, his memories slowly slinking back to him.

"We're here," the lady sitting next to him said again.

Lovino rolled his head to look at her. His neck was on fire, and he wished he had opted for the weird neck-pillow that had been offered. But they looked so  _stupid_ , and now his neck ached.

The lady was gathering her things into her carry-on. "Looks like we got here at the worst possible time." She leaned over him and flicked the window shade up. "Right in the middle of a blizzard. I'm surprised we landed at all."

Lovino rolled his head to look out the window. Everything was that fuzzy, white-gray that only seemed like a color in the winter. No, not the winter, not in Italy, just in shitty, shitty America.

"Crap," Lovino commented.

It took for-fucking-ever to the gate, and Lovino didn't understand why he couldn't  _stand_ , they were maybe a hundred feet from the exit, and he could get out and  _walk_  there faster than the plane was moving. The flight attendant told him he was making a scene.

Finally, Lovino pulled out his phone.

"Lovino!" Feliciano yelled, and Lovino held the phone away from his ear.

" _Ciao_. Just landed, heading to the gate."

"Oh, well, you'll still be here in a couple of hours, right? You said your plane was already delayed, but I think you're only, what, an hour off? That's not bad at all, Lovino! And then we can have Christmas together and Grandpa won't be—"

Lovino already had headache. "Feliciano, please, it's eight in the morning and I still have another flight to sit through."

"Oh, are you taking off?" There was the distant noise of pot banging together.

Lovino sighed. "No, I literally just said I landed. Look, I think we're getting off. I'll call you before the next flight leaves, okay?"

"I love you, Lovino!"

Lovino rolled his eyes, "Dork," and ended the call. He picked up his carry-on and was finally allowed to stand. The line inched forward; Lovino spent most of the time cursing under his breath because these people couldn't walk.

The airport was like any other airport. Everything felt like it was grimy, and the air felt carefully filtered. Still, Lovino couldn't shake the feeling he was inhaling the sneezes of a thousand different people. The snow and light pouring through the windows made everything feel a little cleaner and lighter, though.

However, he reflected as he pushed through a crowd of assholes taking up the entire middle of the walkway, at least he only had another hour flight, at most. And that was just to get to whatever ass-end of America Feliciano had decided to settle.

49B, there was his gate, at the very end of the terminal. Lovino strode toward it. There was crowd of people gathered around. A guy caught his eye and jogged up to him, and Lovino slowed.

"Eh," the guy introduced. "The flight's been delayed. You probably have—"

" _What_?!" Lovino pushed by the guy. "What do you mean it's been  _delayed_? I have places to be!"

The guy followed alongside him. "Yeah, they said the snow's really, really bad, and they have to do… things to the plane, and the uh, runway." The guy shrugged. "They're saying it's going to be at least another hour."

"This is some fucking  _bull_ shit," Lovino muttered under his breath.

Lovino stopped in front of the desk, looking around for a flight attendant. There was only the screen, blinking the words:

EST. TIME OF DEPARTURE: 9:34 AM – DELAYED

Lovino groaned, ran a hand over his face, glared at the service desk. Well, fuck. Still, he could probably make it to Feliciano's by twelve, if the plane left  _right_  at nine-thirty.

"Are you here for Christmas?"

Lovino jerked, hadn't realized the guy from before was still standing next to him. He was wearing a scarf, and standing at the chilly end of the terminal, Lovino was both impressed and annoyed at the guy's forethought.

"Yeah."

Lovino collapsed into one of the seats and tugged out his phone. Feliciano took longer to answer this time, but he was just as loud as before.

"Lovino, have a safe flight!"

"Feli, I'm probably going to be late."

The noise on the other end of the line quieted. "Huh? But why?"

Lovino let out a long sigh. "Because the airport is shit and my fucking flight got delayed. Apparently, they can't handle a little snow, even though it can barely be called a blizzard. I'll be there around—one, hopefully." He gave himself some time for fuckups.

"Alright, just as long as you're safe! Ah, Lovino, I have to go, because there's something boiling—"

"Yeah, yeah."

Lovino hung up. He sank down in his seat. He glowered at the surrounding people, who glared right back. Fuckers probably weren't even  _going_  to Christmas with their family, they were just there to make the plane smell.

It took Lovino a moment to realize the guy from before was sitting across from him. Lovino frowned at him, and the guy smiled.

"I'm here to visit a friend."

Lovino's frowned deepened. "Okay...?"

The guy nodded. "Are you from Italy?"

"What gave it away, the accent?"

"I'm from Spain. My friend, who I'm visiting, comes from Germany, even though he's only over on a visa. So I'm basically here to tell him, 'It's been three years, and your visa's been expired for two of them, come back to Europe!'" The guy laughed.

Despite himself, Lovino let out a quick noise that could maybe, under the right circumstances, be understood as a laugh. The guy grinned, like hearing Lovino laugh had made his whole day better.

"I'm Antonio," the guy introduced. "And I have two last names, but you probably won't need them."

Lovino raised an eyebrow at the guy, but he could feel the smirk on his face. "Lovino Vargas."

Antonio nodded. "I like your name. I think it suits you. So, what are you doing here, all the way from Italy, in the middle of the winter?"

"I already said, Christmas." There was a silence, and for a second, Lovino was going to refuse to fill it. But the guy smiled and tilted his head, and Lovino rolled his eyes. There wasn't anything else to do. "My brother went to college here, fell in love, stayed here. Grandpa followed after him, and he wants his first Christmas to…" Lovino held up his hands and air quoted, "Include the whole family."

Antonio nodded. "Why did he pick Maine?"

Because he wanted something 'different.' Because he didn't want the family business. Lovino scowled and looked away.

"Because he wanted to make the trip as fucking inconvenient as possible. He took out a map of the US and just found the place that got the most snow and is a fucking pain to make plans to." Lovino sat forward, looked back at Antonio. "Did you know his town doesn't have a fucking rental car service? They get no fucking visitors, so they have no way for me to rent a car!"

Antonio laughed, and Lovino leaned back in his seat.

"Why don't you have your brother pick you up?" he finally asked, through giggles.

"I don't like driving with him when it's the middle of summer, let alone when there's ice everywhere. Speaking of ice," he raised his voice, "when is this plane going to get fixed?"

No flight attendant appeared. Lovino let his neck roll back, and the ache from earlier reappeared. God, he hated America. He hated it in the summer, hated it in the winter. It wasn't so bad in the fall, actually.

"Lovino?"

Lovino picked his head up and frowned at Antonio. "What?"

"Want to grab something to eat? They didn't serve breakfast on my plane, and even if you don't want anything, I'll buy you a coffee."

He squinted at Antonio. "You're paying?"

A look of fear flashed over Antonio's face. "I… If it's not too much, yes?"

Lovino shrugged and hopped up. "Fine. I didn't bring any spending money, anyways."

The smile reappeared. Antonio nodded and stood, turned and dug through his backpack. "Just let me grab my wallet."

Lovino rolled his suitcase over. "What do you mean?"

Antonio glanced over his shoulder. "I'm just getting my wallet?"

"What? You're leaving your backpack here?"

Antonio's movements slowed. "It's really heavy. I brought a lot of my friend's books he left, and it was too expensive to put one underneath the plane. So I just shoved all my clothes and stuff into the bottom of the bag, and put my friend's books on top, and now it's really heavy."

Lovino was horrified. "Someone might steal it."

"They're really cheap clothes."

"So, you aren't worried at all that some douche might just stroll up and steal everything?"

Antonio flourished his wallet, turned to face Lovino fully. "No, not really. I mean, the only thing that's worth anything is this." He shook the wallet.

Antonio started walking, and Lovino followed beside him, suitcase in tow.

"I bet you're one of those people who never lock their doors, either," Lovino said, shaking his head. "You're going to act all surprised when everything you own has been pawned off."

Antonio shrugged. "Well, whoever's stealing it probably needs it more than I do."

"So, you'd be fine with someone taking your backpack, as long as they needed it?" Lovino made a face. "It's still  _your_  stuff. Can't just… That's so…"

Selfless, actually. Stupid, too. It was more stupid than anything, but he wasn't going to push the point. It wasn't his stuff getting stolen, so who was Lovino to tell this idiot that he was going to end up in the gutter?

They walked in silence for a few yards.

"That's really nice," Lovino finally snapped. "It's really, really, stupid, but also nice."

Antonio beamed. "Where should we go for coffee?"

Lovino slowed, looked around the terminal at the various cafés. He realized he had absolutely no knowledge of any of the restaurant chains. He slowed. He really didn't want to look like an idiot in front—

No, fuck that, why did it matter?

Lovino pointed.

Antonio followed the finger. "That's a KFC."

Lovino gritted his teeth. "Yes."

Antonio nodded. "It only sells chicken. Well, I mean, it might also sell coffee, but it mainly sells lunch. We could try that place, over there."

Lovino threw his hands in the air. "Fine, whatever!"

They walked over, and it was a nice little café. They were served ridiculously expensive coffees with way too much cream and sugar, and sat at a table near a window with a view of the planes inching through the snow. It was, Lovino supposed, mildly better than sitting near the gate and complaining.

"The snow is bullshit," Lovino muttered.

Antonio shrugged. "I don't mind it. I mean, I don't get very much, where I live. So it's nice to see somewhere get so white. It makes everything feel a little more… ah… like home? Plus, if there was no snow, I wouldn't get to talk to you."

Lovino nearly inhaled his coffee. He spluttered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks, and gave Antonio a look. "That almost sounded like flirting," he managed to say, "and I have a strict no-flirting rule with people I'll never see again."

"Italy's not that far from Spain."

"We hardly know each other!"

Antonio took an innocent sip from his coffee, eyes wide. "What hotel are you staying at?"

Lovino was definitely blushing now, and he glared at Antonio's scarf. "I'm staying with my brother, you perv."

"'Perv?'" Antonio laughed. "I'm just asking a simple question. To get to know you better." The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. "And beds can get chilly during the snow, can't they?"

Lovino gaped. "I can't just bring you to my brother's house!"

"But you're saying you  _will_  bring me somewhere else?"

Lovino closed his eyes, ran a hand over his face, put both elbows on the table, and chopped the air with his hands. "Look, let's just back up here. We're assuming a couple of things. First, that I'm willing to sleep with you."

"Well, aren't you? I'm friendly and cute, and you're funny and cute."

" _Second_ , that we would—sleep together at where ever  _I'm_  staying. I'm not… My brother…" Lovino made a face. "I mean, I guess technically he would be fine with it? I just—"

"So," Antonio leaned forward. "I can come and have Christmas with you?"

"I don't even know your last name!"

Antonio held out his hand. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo."

Lovino looked at the hand, back up at Antonio. And he laughed. This was one of the most ridiculous conversations he had ever had, and it was fucking amazing. He laughed and covered his hand with his mouth, hating that Antonio was grinning.

"You're an idiot!" he gasped. "You're the dumbest man I've ever fucking met!"

Antonio nodded. "But I'm great to bring home to parents."

* * *

Feliciano flung open the door. "Lovin—" He froze, looking between Lovino and Antonio. "Uh… Who's this?"

Lovino gestured. "This is Antonio. He's a fucking idiot who had his bag stolen and needs a place to stay."


End file.
